**Next Day – Night, 8 PM**
Across all fronts, Draconian soldiers began equipping night vision gear, while some allied soldiers consumed a potion that temporarily granted them the ability to see in the dark. Armed with their rifles—now called the **Avalon-75**, which weighed over 8 kg and carried more than 30 rounds of .388 caliber ammunition—they were ready. The Avalon-75 had impressive penetration power and long-range capabilities, able to reach distances of over 1,500 meters.
This rifle became standard issue across all branches, as production lines were retrofitted. Old weapons were sent back to factories to be disassembled, following Alex's demand to focus on recovering them instead of storing them away. After much debate, the retrofit policy was implemented. Old tanks weren't replaced but retrofitted to modern standards. Warships weren't scrapped but disassembled and smelted to create parts for new warships. The research department focused primarily on military needs, while Alex invested in advancing the civilian sector.
**Back to the War**
The soldiers finished their checks. Everyone was nervous, but they knew that this war, which had lasted far longer than others, would finally come to an end—and they would return home as heroes. Filled with determination, they boarded their armored carriers and trucks. The Forbidden Cavalry, which had been preparing, was briefed once more.
**HQ**
"Commander, have your cavalrymen prepare for infantry combat. The artillery bombardment has made the terrain unsuitable for a cavalry charge," Marshal Ben spoke to the vice commander of the Forbidden Cavalry.
"I see. I'll inform my soldiers of the change," the vice commander replied, bowing slightly.
**Front Lines**
Night had fallen. A line of tanks and APCs stood on standby, their engines roaring in anticipation. Soldiers, drivers, and operators nervously opened and closed their palms.
"Come on, when's it going to begin?" an officer muttered, checking his wristwatch.
**BOOM.**
A flare exploded, followed by sirens. The first line of tanks and IFVs began moving forward, crossing the trench line. As they advanced, the tanks locked onto bunkers that had been left untouched by the earlier bombardment.
"Switch to night vision, people. It's about to get dark," a tank commander ordered over the radio.
"Switching to night vision, shutting external lights," a driver responded, flicking switches.
As night reigned, the titans and their allies looked out over their trenches, watching the advancing vehicles.
"Arm the cannons!" a titan shouted. Soon, a large iron cylinder was brought out, and another titan inserted a perfectly cut stone ball. After packing the gunpowder, they lit the fuse, and a thunderous **boom** echoed.
**With the Tank Group**
"Did you hear that?" a tank commander asked through his radio.
"Yeah, sounded like a cannon," the co-driver responded. Checking the radar, he saw a projectile rapidly approaching.
"Projectile incoming!" he shouted. Just in time, a large circular boulder landed a few kilometers in front of them. The driver turned the tank sharply, avoiding the hit.
"All units, be advised: we're facing artillery. Have aerial scouts locate it," the commander ordered through the radio. At the airbase, aerial scouts were dispatched, while the enemy kept eyes on the sky. An owl watched the converging forces below.
"Over 100,000 soldiers, tanks, and infantry carriers are heading our way," the owl said to the other mercenaries and titans present.
"I see. Prepare to defend in depth and set up the traps," their general, a low-ranking officer, commanded.
The tanks began bombarding moving figures.
"Arm."
"Fire."
**BOOM.**
Meanwhile, the IFVs held their fire, not wanting to waste ammunition on the rocks.
**Airbase – Aerial Scout Operation Room**
"Sir, I've spotted a few dozen large cannons firing on the tanks," an operator reported. His commander approached the monitor and nodded.
"Have the attack helicopters strike those positions," the commander ordered, speaking to the air cavalry.
**Air Cavalry Commander's POV**
"I see. I'll send them out." The commander turned to the gathered officers. "Send Viper Squadron. I want those cannons silenced." He then addressed the officer in charge of Viper Squadron.
"Order received, sir," the officer acknowledged before leaving.
**On the Temporary Airbase**
A line of Cobra attack helicopters stood ready as mechanics worked to start their engines. Pilots gathered for their briefing.
"What's the mission, sir?" a pilot asked.
"To silence some cannons and run for our lives," the briefing officer said with a chuckle.
Soon, a map showing the enemy's defense lines was presented.
"This is an updated version of the map. The locations we need to target are marked. We have 30 Cobra helicopters, so split into teams and attack these positions," the officer explained. Everyone nodded.
"Stand up and depart!" he commanded, and the pilots headed for their helicopters. Final checks were made, and with the green light, they boarded their cockpits. Some began joking.
"Hey, James, if you get shot down, let's bet on who'll save your ass," a co-pilot teased from another helicopter. James gave him the middle finger.
"Who'll save me? Maybe your mother," he retorted, causing laughter.
The man who spoke, with chocolate-colored skin, wasn't happy, as his mother still looked young.
"Just you wait until we get back," he muttered before hopping into the cockpit. As the hatches closed, mechanics cleared away, and the attack helicopters lifted off the ground.
"Seems like we're clear," the pilot noted as they rose 5 km into the air.
"Get in attack formation," the squadron commander ordered. He pushed the throttle forward, and the helicopters began moving in formation.
A few minutes later, the chaos below became visible.
"Whoa, look at the mess," a co-pilot said, watching as armored vehicles cautiously dodged the perfectly circular boulders being fired from the forest.
"Yeah, and we're about to destroy the ones responsible," the pilot added, scanning for any anti-aircraft fire. It was a shared concern.
"Alright, here's the plan: each group of five will pair up. The last group will handle any remaining targets. We'll focus on the marked locations," the squadron commander explained. Everyone listened carefully.
Five minutes later, the helicopters locked on target.
"Locked on. Opening fire," a pilot reported. The machine guns began to fire, turning those near the cannons into swiss cheese. Rockets were fired, hitting the gunpowder stores and causing massive explosions—like mini-nukes in the forest. The forest burned as attack helicopters twisted through the trees, diving like eagles.
"Our job is done. Fall back to base," the squadron commander ordered as they flew away from the burning forest. Tanks and the attack force resumed full speed. The first wave of tanks stopped, with APCs and IFVs halting near steep cliffs.
"Get boots on the ground now!" a commander shouted, as mounted machine guns opened fire. Infantry dismounted and began climbing the cliffs, but soon, hidden enemy holes opened.
"Fuck! He got stabbed!" a sergeant shouted as he saw a soldier get speared in the hip from a hidden hole.
"Medics, get him out of here! Blow that hole!" he ordered. A soldier cautiously approached, throwing a grenade. It exploded, followed by enemy screams.
"Advance and flame that hole!" the sergeant commanded.
---
"Come on! We need to secure a bridgehead for the armor units to climb!" he shouted with vigor, moving forward and climbing as he fired a few rounds. The others, seeing him lead, began following.
"Damn you!" he shouted as he unsheathed a combat knife, stabbing the hand that held the shaft of a spear emerging from a hidden bunker. After cutting the wrist, he heard a pained scream. He pulled out a grenade, pulled the pin, and threw it into the hole, causing a small explosion followed by more than one scream of pain. He continued to climb and, upon reaching the top of the cliff, saw some soldiers returning fire at enemies in the forest. Arrows and javelins rained down, and some soldiers had arrows embedded in their armor. Others bore scars on their faces where ballistic plates had blocked or deflected the projectiles.
Suddenly, a long arrow flew out of the forest and pierced a soldier's chest, and blood began to pour from the wound.
"Elven archers! We need support guns!" a soldier shouted as the wounded man fell off the cliff, most likely dead.
Soon, support machine guns arrived, including the Brawner machine gun. As they were set up, the team began returning fire.
"Fix your positions! We need to advance! The IFV has to start climbing!" a company commander shouted. The soldiers were just one part of the attacking force, and the others were having a hard time climbing. The survivors of the bombardment were either stabbing or impaling their attackers with long arrows.
"All soldiers, forward!" the company commander shouted again. Soldiers began moving from cover to cover, firing bursts into enemy positions that hadn't been fully identified.
"Is the mortar squad in position?" the company commander asked through the radio as he reloaded, taking cover.
"Yes, sir. We're just fixing the coordinates," the mortar squad leader responded calmly.
"Let me know when you start firing," the commander shouted, his voice drowned out by the gunfire and shouting.
"Damn it! Don't go full auto! You're just wasting ammunition!" an officer shouted at a private nearby who was spraying bullets wastefully.
A few minutes later, mortar rounds began landing on the enemy positions, causing chaos in their lines.
"Rounds complete," the mortar squad commander reported over the radio. The company commander looked at the soldiers next to him, hiding in a crater.
"Begin moving forward. We need to secure the first line! Arm yourselves with bayonets!" he shouted. Along with the other soldiers, he charged forward, bayonets fixed.
A few minutes later, they reached the trenches, engaging in close combat for control. Fatigue began to weigh on them, but the soldiers pressed on. One soldier saw an enemy lunging at him, attempting to choke him, but managed to fire a few bursts, stabbing the attacker in the chest and throat.
"Get up, soldier! There's more to fight!" a comrade shouted, pulling the blood-covered man to his feet. Luckily, reinforcements had arrived.
"The Magic Knights are here!" a soldier shouted, pointing to a banner of a blue lion with the Roman numeral I. Knights in blue shining armor arrived, cutting down enemies with fierce determination. The soldiers, inspired by the arrival of the knights, fought harder. After 30 minutes of intense fighting, they secured the trench line.
"Alright, rebuild defenses! We need combat engineers to build a ramp so the armor units can climb up! The IFV tipped over a minute ago!" the battalion commander shouted into the radio. The company commanders began directing their troops. Gaps were plugged, and machine gun nests were set up.
---
**HQ**
Alex sat on a wooden throne, his eyes closed. Though observers couldn't see it, he was wearing his mask. His Imperial Guard, tall and imposing, stood beside him. But these guards were not ordinary—they were the best of the best. Out of the 10,000 soldiers guarding the empire, only 20 were selected each year to protect the emperor himself. Even though Alex had a wife and children, his guards could not procreate. Their biology had been altered to make them infertile, and any outsider who joined the guard would take a drug that rendered them sterile.
With this, Alex ensured that the genes of the Imperial Guard would never leave the ranks. He had even ordered the scientific department to temporarily halt the production of new Imperial Guards.
"Your Majesty, the second phase is complete. The battle lasted four hours, and the third phase has begun. The 'drugs' will be distributed. Combat engineers have started building a ramp, and groups of soldiers are clearing enemy bunkers," an officer summarized, bowing slightly.
Alex's eyes opened, energy surging slightly. He spoke with a commanding tone.
"I see. Have the elite squads position themselves. I will take point with the other gods."
He stood, asking, "How are the casualties? I want the report in 30 minutes."
As he left the tent with his detail of guards, the officer bowed again and returned to the war table where generals and officers were discussing their assigned units.
"I want casualty reports. Once finished, give them to me. I'll deliver them to the emperor myself," the officer commanded. The others in the room quickly shifted focus, preparing the needed answers.
---
**To be continued...**